Late at Night
by Melacka
Summary: Every night, Hermione returns to Severus. Every night, she regrets her decision.


AN: this is something I wrote a while ago. It was an attempt of mine to cure a serious case of writer's block I was suffering from. It didn't work, but I posted it on Ashwinder anyway, now I'm posting it here. Hope you like it, let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: own nothing, just taking them out for a spin.

* * *

Oh gods, not again! Please no, not again. I can't handle it again. My eyes fly open and I immediately close them again, pulling a pillow over my head. I definitely can't handle this again. Although, in retrospect, I suppose that I have really brought this upon myself, so I can hardly complain, it is entirely my own fault. It's always my fault. I choose to come here, every night. Almost every night for the past month I have chosen to come here. And every night that I have, I have ultimately regretted the decision. But for some reason, I can't bring myself to stay away. I can't bring myself to refuse him every time he asks me to come to him. Well, asks can be a fairly loose term. Often it is a demand. A demand that I join him in his chambers. I can never bring myself to flat out refuse. Because when I do, well, he's just so damn cute when he begs. But in the end it is my choice. My choice to come here, and he knows it. He makes me suffer for it; suffer for wanting him. But still I come back, yearning for his touch and craving his company. And every time, late at night, when everyone else in the castle is asleep, I regret my decision.

I swore to myself that it wouldn't happen again, it couldn't happen again. That I couldn't let it happen again. I've told myself a hundred times that I shouldn't put myself through this. I've told myself every time is happens that it will be the last, knowing that I'll go back on my word. I've told myself a thousand times that I would never again make the late night trek to the dungeons. Told myself that that night I would stay firmly ensconced in safety of my bed in the sanctity of my rooms. I kept telling myself, every time it happened, that I could not let it happen again. I honestly don't know why I bother even thinking it anymore. I have long since given up on saying it out loud. His smirk would just be too unbearably smug every time I would inevitably go back on my word. No, he enjoys it far too much for me to make it so easy for him. Besides, I don't bother believing myself anymore, there is absolutely no point in saying it out loud. But I still don't know why I am here. Again. I don't understand why exactly I continue to torture myself by being here. Again.

Sighing slightly, I dislodge myself from the sheets and ease out of his embrace. I place my feet on the floor and stand slowly, wincing slightly at the stiffness in my legs. Casting my eyes around the room I stifle a curse at the state of my clothes. Inconsiderate bastard. Obsessively meticulous about his own clothes but doesn't give a damn about mine. I don't really mind, in fact I very much enjoy it and they are easily repaired. Still, just once I'd like to be able to rip his clothes off _before_ he gets the chance to spell them into a neatly folded pile on a nearby chair. I think it would defeat the purpose slightly if I were to begin ripping his clothes after they were already off his body. Besides, I'm sure that it would send the wrong message.

I move slowly through the bed room, carefully avoiding collisions and trying not to wake him up, and slip on his shirt. I walk through the door and wait for the lamps to light before moving through the living room and up to his personal supply of potions. These are his private stores of potions that he considers important or useful in daily life. A large amount of Calming Draughts, Sleeping Draughts, doses of Pepper Up Potion, Veritaserum, various potions with the purpose of either sobering the drinker or curing their hangover, both very painful and completely painless poisons, all undetectable, and of course his impressive supply of Firewhisky. A true testament to the life of a teacher of Hogwarts that poison and truth serum are considered to be necessary aspects of a daily routine. Or perhaps it is just a mixture of Severus' fairly neurotic tendencies kicking into overdrive and a simple case of 'old habits die hard'.

I search the bottles until I come across a very powerful Sleeping Draught. I close the cupboard and check a couple of times that it is in fact a Sleeping Draught and not a cunningly disguised poison. Poison may soothe Severus' nerves, but with me, not so much. With another sigh I close my eyes and down the potion. I really need to put a stop to this. I simply cannot keep living this way. I can't keep lying to myself and regretting our time together. I can't keep staying awake all night berating myself for my selfishness. I know that Severus is happier than he has been in months, well at least he appears to be. I really shouldn't be focussing on my own problems. I should just enjoy the moment and learn to live with the damn consequences. But I can't keep doing this, downing all his sleeping potions in a last ditch effort at ignoring the problem. Where's all that famed Gryffindor courage? Yes, that's all I need. One of these days I'm just going to have to get up the courage and talk it out with him. Yes, I'll do it tomorrow. I won't let this happen again.

I feel the potion starting to take effect and move back towards the bedroom, extinguishing the lamps on the way. I slip out of his shirt and return it to his pile of clothes. I climb back into bed and tell myself another time that I won't let it happen again. That tonight will be the last time. I tell myself that tomorrow I will confront him about it, and I know that I'm lying. He slips his arm around me and brings me closer to him, burying his nose in my hair. I close my eyes under the effects of the potion and wait for the sanctuary of sleep to come. I'm going to have to talk to him, I can't keep living like this. One of these days something has got to be done.

Something has got to be done about this damn snoring.

* * *

AN: Please review. 


End file.
